


I can see you starting to break

by Elisexyz



Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, First (official) meeting, Lucy Has Been Raised Into Rittenhouse AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-08
Updated: 2018-06-08
Packaged: 2019-05-19 20:24:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14880621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elisexyz/pseuds/Elisexyz
Summary: “What do youmeanI have a sister who was erased from history?” (...)“You weren’t supposed to hear that,” her mother says, giving her the pitiful and regretful look she sports whenever Lucy does something that she thinks isbeneathher and her legacy. Whenever she turns out to be a bit of a disappointment.“Well, I did,” she says, her heart beating faster than normal and her stomach tied in knots.





	I can see you starting to break

**Author's Note:**

> For the Tumblr prompt: 78\. “You weren’t supposed to hear that.” + Garcy. It's kind of cheating, considering that they don't say it to each other, but... please, cut me some slack, this scenario just wouldn't leave me alone ^^

“What do you _mean_ I have a sister who was erased from history?” Lucy all but yells, unable to keep quiet any longer. She knows that the best tactical choice probably would have been to keep her mouth shut and listen in for as long as possible, but—

Lucy is an historian.

She loves history, she spent her whole life reading tons of books and learning about what once was, knowing full well that one day she’d get to see it for herself.

She loves history, but she also knows of the importance of Rittenhouse and the plans they have for the world. Her faith in their grand plan didn’t prevent her from mourning every life lost before their time came, every historical figure that was supposed to do big things and instead was forgotten. Some days, she feels crushed by the burden of being the only one to remember them.

And now it turns out that among those lives there’s also a _sister_ of hers— one that she never remembers having. The thought is unsettling to say the _least_.

“You weren’t supposed to hear that,” her mother says, giving her the pitiful and regretful look she sports whenever Lucy does something that she thinks is _beneath_ her and her legacy. Whenever she turns out to be a bit of a disappointment.

“Well, I _did_ ,” she says, her heart beating faster than normal and her stomach tied in knots. A sister. Lucy has always wanted a sister. Her life has felt so lonely, the weight of her birthright has been so _crushing_ at times— getting to know the people who populated history almost felt like building a private circle of extraordinary friends, at times, but she’s always wished for a sibling to share it with. Apparently, she had one. She was _supposed_ to have one.

She automatically tries to _remember_ her, as if she was hidden somewhere in her mind, even though she knows full well that that’s not the case. That that sister belonged to another Lucy.

“It’s very complicated,” Carol says, and her smile feels so patronizing that it can only make Lucy angrier.

“Then _explain_ it to me,” she spits out. “Explain how you could erase your own _daughter_ —”

“It was for the greater good, Lucy,” Carol insists, stepping forward to put her hands on her shoulders, caressing her with her thumbs the way she does when she wants to soothe her. It’s not working, this time. “That’s all you need to know. You have to trust Rittenhouse.”

Lucy has a really hard time wrapping her head around how someone could erase a member of their own family and just— talk about it like it was a necessary sacrifice and that was it. No remorse, because it was for the greater good. No questioning, because it was for Rittenhouse.

Lucy has always found it easier to just follow in her mother’s footsteps, be a daughter she’d be _proud_ of— but she doesn’t know if she can stand by her in this.

If she’s being honest with herself, Lucy has never _truly_ believed in Rittenhouse. She loves her mother, and she wants to make her proud. She has been raised into this, and just like many who were raised Catholic go to church and believe in God mostly out of habit, she’s always let everyone else string her along in their dreams of world salvation.

Some of it has always sounded a bit too much like world _domination_ , but it wasn’t her place to question, and her mother seemed to be the proudest of her when she was being a good Rittenhouse historian.

Now Lucy finds herself wondering if maybe that was because her mother only sees her as two more hands to help Rittenhouse. If she erased one daughter for the ‘greater good’, who’s to say that her days aren’t numbered as well? Who’s to say that there isn’t more of her family that she’s lost without ever knowing it?

“What was her name?” Lucy finds herself asking.

“Does it matter?” Carol asks, gently.

Lucy breathes in, fighting the urge to shove her hands off her.

“It does to me,” she says. She may not be able to carry the memory of her laugh or of—of nights spent talking in the darkness of their shared bedroom, the way she dreamt of doing with an imaginary sister when she was a kid and she couldn’t sleep, or of afternoons spent studying history together, or of any of the memories that they _should_ have shared, but she can at least remember her _name_ , the way she remembers the names of all those forgotten history figures. It will die with her, but it’s still something.

Carol sighs. “Amy,” she finally concedes. “Her name was Amy.”

Lucy nods. She almost hoped that hearing it would sparkle something in her, but there’s nothing. She doesn’t even feel anything in particular towards that name, because she has never met any Amy.

“Do you have— a picture, or something?” she decides to push.

Carol hesitates. “I think it’s better if you never know her.”

“I think that I can decide for myself,” Lucy says, harshly, even if it’s less aggressive than she would have liked.

Her mother sighs once again, shaking her head in disappointed resignation. That look on her face always makes something in Lucy’s stomach twist, but she resists the urge to back down.

“Alright,” Carol says. “This—” She takes out a locket, handing it to her. “This is a reminder that no sacrifice is too great when so much is at stake. I don’t expect you to understand it now, but— someday, you will.”

Lucy doesn’t answer, taking the locket and hesitating before opening it. She’s greeted by the warm smile of a stranger. No recognition. “She’s beautiful,” is the only thing that she can think of saying.

 

 

She decides to approach him unarmed, hoping that he’ll be less likely to shoot her in the head without even hearing her out if he knows that he has an advantage.

A part of her is pretty sure that she won’t even manage to get within ten feet of him, considering how effective he has been in taking out Rittenhouse members through history, but she’s sure as hell going to at least _try_.

The locket with Amy’s photo is hanging around her neck, she can feel it resting against her chest, under her tight clothes, an enormous invisible weight, threatening to drag her down whenever she obeys to her orders.

Right now, the image of her sister’s smile feels like encouragement. _You are doing great, Lucy_. Let’s just hope she doesn’t die today.

“Flynn?” she calls, hesitantly, the strange name tasting weird as it leaves her mouth. She walks with her hands up in surrender and calls for him to not startle him, hoping that she wasn’t wrong when she spotted him running in here.

She sees him a few seconds later, casually leaning against a wall, gun in hand but pointed to the ground.

“Can I help you?” he says, conversationally.

Lucy frowns. She’s pretty sure that he _has_ seen her a couple of times, while they were fighting through time. “I’m—”

“Lucy,” he supplies, confirming her suspicions and making her draw a brief sigh of annoyance: if he knows who she is, he could have skipped the dramatics and just asked what the hell she’s doing there.

“I am not here to fight you,” she says anyway, because she’s here to get an alley, not to discuss the guy’s sense of drama.

“I know,” he says, casually. It’s kind of unnerving how comfortable he looks, while Lucy is all tense and about to jump out of her own skin any second now.

She’s betraying everything that she’s ever worked for, she’s betraying her own _mother_ , her so-called destiny— it feels a lot like she’s fighting against her own nature. She’s not to supposed to be _here_. And, as if that wasn’t enough, she’s walked up to a known, trigger-happy enemy with her hands up and no means to defend herself.

She’s a big bag of nerves and he’s standing there like he’s not surprised at all by her presence and doesn’t have a care in the damn _world_.

“You _know_?” she echoes, more than a bit sceptical.

Flynn nods, stepping away from the wall to approach her. “I know a lot of things,” he explains, as if that made any sense. “And _please_ , just put those hands down, I have no intention of shooting you.”

Lucy lets her arms relax against her sides, realizing only then that she hadn’t dropped the defensive pose.

“That’s better,” he comments. They spend a couple of seconds silently staring at each other, and Lucy has the very vivid feeling that he’s looking for _something_ in her face. “So,” he says, clicking his tongue. “Are you ready to take down Rittenhouse with me?”


End file.
